I was selfish. I kept you with me thinking that somehow I would be skipped, that the gods would forgive… but I only prolonged the inevitable.

It's been a day since Mars's early return. Seriously though if you say you're going to be gone for a while and you return, like, twelve seconds later then just say you're not going to take long!

Anyway, the reason Mars left was because he was going to visit Vinny in order to collect a package. Vinny, being the shifty but super reliable probably criminal he is, had already made sure it was there the day before.

I really don't understand why the guy had to come personally but that's a whole other beast on its own.

Eton and I of course had been curious about this package, though as always I'm the one asking the questions. It contained various pieces of metal, screws, and a surprising amount of duct tape. There was a pack of crayons but I marked that down as Vinny being Vinny.

"Eyy Verdun, come now." The weasel had said as if it were a valid answer to any of the questions I asked.

I know how you're father will act when I'm gone, he will he broken and it kills me to know this. Eton... I know he will just follow you, he always has.

I still can't get my mind off of what the metal was for, why did Mars need it? Wait, was he going to give us robot arms?! Ah yeah, that'd be sick! Wait, but nobody besides Dad is missing an arm. Maybe the arm would be for him?

No… even if he could somehow get Dad to wear it there isn't any guarantee he'd use it. Especially not with the way he is now...

"Ey Verdun!" a pale arm wraps around my shoulders, Vinny's long mop of hair making the old man seek like a hobo. Something nags on the back of my mind, I thought I remember him looking younger yesterday. He frowns and the nagging thought goes away; guess it was just my imagination, "What are you cooking?"

I stare down at the cutting board and sigh when I see it's missing one of the carrot slices,

"Vinny, put it back."

He laughs and raises the carrot slice, "Oh come Verdun, how much is this one going to be missed?"

I shrug my shoulders, "A lot, I can't cut another carrot without having to use the whole carrot and that would mean I'd have to double the ingredients." He blinks once and swallows the carrot! "Vinny, the heck?!"

Every time I look at you all I can see is me. Your hair, your smile, your laugh-

Eton rushes down the steps, he looks ready for a fight. Thankfully I've already taken care of it. Vinny lies on the ground tied together by a spare rope of sausage links. "I said give it back!"

-and my temper.

Vinny just laughs like he isn't essentially hogtied with hog. Then again, sausage probably isn't the best rope. "Perhaps you should finish the meal Verdun."

"I can't! You've taken the most important piece away from it!"

By this point Eton is sitting at the table, unsure of what to do except for not interfere. He knows well that the kitchen is mine when I'm cooking. Vinny on the other hand is still laughing, "Try it little one, perhaps you will find one piece missing is not as bad?"

"Mr. Plaster, I'd be careful telling Verdun how to cook." Eton warns, "Mr. Mars tried to put an herb into soup one time and we still haven't replaced the pot…"

The old vendor shakes his head, "Sounds scary."

Was I really that bad? I grab the rest of the ingredients and begin shuffling them into the pan,

"Whatever, but if this ruins everything then it's your fault."

I don't know what you'll do, it all depends on how the curse takes me. I was a good child, a bit problematic but who isn't when they're young?

Vinny stares at me smugly as I eat, the meal was delicious. "It's good no?"

"Yes."

He grabs another steamed veggie bun off of the oven and takes a hearty bite, "But you sheem naht haphy." he swallows the bite, "But why?"

But thankfully I had people in my life to show me where I was wrong.

I shake my head, "Because I was wrong… again."

"You were not."

"Come again?" don't really see why not but hey, Vinny's proved me wrong before so maybe he'll do it again.

"Mphssh fmpha ygnu shae-" oh my gods Vinny swallow the damn bun! "Sorry for that yes." he cleared his throat, "I said: you still made it despite losing your carrot to someone."

Eton, who had been so quiet since the meal started, blushed brightly, "Uhm… we're still talking about food right?"

Vinny burst into laughter for some reason, I don't know what he finds so funny but I don't care. "Yea, yea, what's that got to do with anything?"

He doesn't initially stop, a nearby kitchen knife helps him though, "Eh, heh, yes. Sorry little one." he composes himself and just like that day in his stall something changes about him. "A single slice of carrot being taken is not enough to destroy a meal, not when the carrot leaves behind other slices to be called on."

"Wait… we're still talking about food right?" I ask.

Eton speaks up again, "At least it isn't what I thought…" both of us turn, he waves his arms and blushes brightly again, "Ignore me! Continue the philosophical carrot speech!"

Vinny nods, "I would if I could but I'm afraid I must stay no longer, I left the oven on in my stove." he quickly dashes for the pan of steamed buns and nabs ten of them before rushing out of the kitchen.

"Uhm, does he..."

Nope, "Eton my man, Vinny has plenty of things in that stall. Good milk, strangely decorated forks, haphazard chairs, and horribly disguised rip offs. But an oven is one thing I know he does not."

"Oh," he says, "So he just-"

"Stole our food and lied about it while also mistakenly saying there's a oven in his stove? Yes."

I hear a deep rumbling sound, Eton follows it up by saying, "Oh…"

Password accepted: Welcome back Verdun.

Almost a year into this and I've still only scratched the surface. There's so much I never thought I'd read about my family. The fact that I was descended from the very first faunus I guess was a given, don't know why I was confused about that. Being descended from a character mom told me stories of when I was a pup kind of seems more important.

But it was more than just that, there was more to her story. In her story it was said the gods had blessed her with immense strength, but in the journals I've read there is more truth.

In the earliest days of man not much had been recorded, but in the budding years of my kind we recorded much. It's hard to read the texts because it seems many of them have words that are missing or have strange phrases. I can only assume that it's because of differences in language from then to now.

There are other journals to read but before I can the scroll freezes up. For a few moments I think the thing has finally crapped out, Brothers know how long this thing has been active.

A bit of time goes by and I almost give up on it for the night but thankfully thing kicks back into action.

However the screen no longer displays words, just a small icon meaning play. A video log. I read the date, May thirteenth. Mother's day…

Against better judgement I decide to play the entry, and just to confirm my belief the video starts immediately with Mom laughing.

Hey there Verdun, as I'm sure know this video is on Mother's day. You and your Father have not stopped pestering me all day! This is the only second I've had away from you two. Thankfully Eton is leading you two on.

She stops and her smile loosens a bit; thanks instincts, you're slowly killing me.

Speaking of your father… as much as he wants to act as if I'm the emotional one he is a total drama queen.

She laughs and looks away from the camera as if she's listening to something, she laughs again.

There goes Japhyr, I wonder what you did this time pup.

I remember that day, earlier that day I kind of messed with his snakes. She turns back to the camera.

Pup, depending on how this piece of junk acts you will have probably watched my goodbye message before this.

She seems to age as she throws a glance back at the flap. Was she was recording these in secret?

Your father does not get that benefit… what I'm about to say I only want him to hear so do mole ears for mommy one more time ok?

I pause the video, mole ears was a term she used to say whenever she bathed me as a little kid or whenever she was fixing to let loose a string of curses near Eton and I. Both happened in equal measure.

I shut the scroll off and head to the only person I need to. My heart pounds as I leave my room, my feet tiptoeing down the hall. I don't know why the stealth, I guess it's reflex from Mars's bull hockey.

The door creaks open slowly as always, and in the spirit of keeping recurring events in order, I am immediately brought down by a wave of sadness. The only thing that keeps me from just running out is the barest vein of will and the fact Dad is sleeping. I don't think I have it in me to look him the eyes for much longer.

I leave the scroll unlocked and unguarded on the chair he loves to sit on. Hopefully whatever Mom tells him helps more than I did.

A day has passed and Mars has returned, with him he brings us the answer of what in the heck was all the metal for; but not before another early morning trek into the Emerald Forest.

"Hey geezer," I shout loudly, my voice echoes loudly in the endless maze of trees, "Just how deep are going into this forest?"

He doesn't answer. Metal clinks and clanks against metal as Eton shuffles closer to me, "If you need help carrying your pack, I can help."

I shake my head, "Nah Eton, I've come this far so it's not like a few more feet will kill me. Besides, Mars would never let me live it down."

"Eton, Verdun, you boys can stop now!" Mars shouts. I plop onto the ground, thanking whatever deity exists. Mars stands at the mouth of a very large and very dark cave, "What do you boys see?" we both say cave, "Wrong." huh?!

"How is that not a cave? What, is it some sort of secret gaping mouth?!" I shout, throwing a hand to what is definitely a cave. He blinks once, "Oh you've got to be screwing around."

"I know I've already stated my lack of time whelps," Mars begins while gesturing to the boggy staircase, "If you boys had come to me earlier then I wouldn't have to force you down this path."

Things were moving a little too fast for my liking, "Hold up," apparently Eton felt Mars was explaining too little as well, "Mr. Mars, what exactly is going on?"

My lousy explainer of a grandfather blinks once, "Today you're going to craft your weapons."

"So, we need a questionably dark mist hole to do that?" a small pang of fatigue hits me as I focus in the inky darkness. I quickly look away, the 'ol instincts are telling me that this is what I'm sure professional huntsmen call a "not good".

"I know, I know, it doesn't look good." Mars says with, for the first time, nervousness in his voice. It's quickly replaced with his normal prim, militaristic attitude, "I don't know whether either of you wish to become hunstmen or not, but if either of you are planning on going out into that big expanse of bull we call the real world then you'll have to make yourselves some means of protection."

"Mr. Mars, if this is true then why are we out here and what is with this cave?" alright Eton, asking the good questions. I mean, he probably won't give us a straight answer anyway but it is great that I'm not the only one who will be ignored.

"I don't ignore your questions runt, I answer the ones that need to be answered WHEN they need to be answered." alright, am I the only one in the family who the whole "reading people's minds" trait skipped?! "As to answer your question Eton, this cave houses an ancient species of Grimm."

A dark scary cave with nothing but mist and soupy atmosphere most likely, contains an ancient type of Grimm, sounds about as good as literally anything else that's happened this far. "Alrighty then," I try to hide the nervousness in my tone as I tighten the straps of my pack, it doesn't work of course because my body apparently loves to do things of my own free will, "Guess I'll head in first."

Mars shook his head, didn't need the mind reading ability to tell I was nervous did he? "Kid, at least let me give you the run down before you go in and get gunned down."

"The Grimm has guns?!" now that's a terrifying thought, but it doesn't really make sense. Did Grimm downgrade over the years, kind of hard to think of an ancient Grimm using guns if the ones today don't...

"I didn't mean that literally runt!" a sharp smack on the head clears the idea of a gunslinging desperado Grimm out of my head. Kind of makes me sad, could've brought that movie idea to some producer in Mistral.

"I can't really explain this Grimm other than the fact that it's ancient, been here for eons according to the eggheads up in the city. But enough on that, when a Huntsman or Huntress makes their weapon it usually takes a full year or two of on and off preparation and continuous smithing in order to craft and attune it properly."

"So, the cave dwelling gunny Grimm? How does it fit into that?"

"The what?" Mars asks in confusion, soon enough though he realizes what I meant and just sighs. "It's not using any guns... never mind that, never mind. What's important about this Grimm is that it will help you create your weapons at a more rapid pace."

Eton shuffles from foot to foot, he's just as ready as to get this over with as I am, "Exactly how much time Mr. Mars?"

"You'll be finished by the day's end."

"Note to self, quit playing games of luck Verdun."

That's the first mental note I make today as I inch closer to the soupy staircase of the gunslinging old man Grimm. Mars made us decide who would go first by making us pull straws, I take a glance behind me and think about how I probably could have just let Eton go ahead as I stare at his long straw.

"I'll give you one warning before you take the dive," Mars's face is once more taken with worry, "Just… if you start feeling tired just remember the good things."

Good what? Wait, why isn't he finishing the sentence? Is… no, "Is that it?"

"That's it." he replies matter of factly. Are you serious? Of course he is.

"Y'know, just in case I die from this gramps, I want you to know." He stares at me, waiting for to finish the sentence. A taste of medicine you old geezer, a nice dosage before I take one more step into the mirth.

One step, that's all I make it to before the world fades to darkness and all sounds are gone. Most men would break under this, most warriors would lose themselves in the miasmic soup of the gunslinging Grimm's staircase.

Despite my odd past, I guess I am like most of humanity because I immediately freak out and immediately try to find any speck of light.

There isn't any and there are no sounds. There is nobody else here but me and whatever this darkness was. I can't even hear Gunny; by the way that gunslinging old man Grimm that isn't actually a gunslinging old man Grimm, I'm calling him Gunny. It's weird, I know.

After what feels like hours of walking here I come to two realizations. The first: it is kind of warm in here. It almost reminds me of those moments I curled my blankets into a cocoon when I was younger.

The second: with every step I'm getting more and more exhausted. My arms are sagging, my legs are slowing down, and my eyelids are starting to get heavier. Brothers forbid I take more than one step without blasting a yawn.

It's really annoying, especially when the ground I can't see starts becoming hazardous. There were little outcroppings here and there. It's either really cold mud or it's snow.

Before I can figure out which, not like I really could though with the world being pitch black, I snag foot on something. Any moment now and I know I'll end up with a sore jaw.

Or so I thought.

It was kind of a jar to my senses and kind of hard to describe but when it felt like I was supposed to hit hard ground I found myself lying on the floor of cold, cold snow staring into the empty void of the night sky.

Well that answered one question. But now there's hundred more. For example: where am I?!

The only source of light was on the horizon and it was so faint. It looked like a campfire. A dying one at that. I mean, that's all fine and dandy but what happened to the cave? The last thing I remember before showing up in this random wintry forest is my foot getting caught on something. This really made no sense, even if somehow I found my way back into the Emerald Forest it isn't winter anymore.

But why do I feel such a horrifying sense of familiarity with each step I take towards this light? This isn't the emerald forest, that much I start to realize. None of these trees appear in anywhere except one place: Mantle.

It makes no sense! The only thing I can relate this to is Raven's portal thingy!

It's moments like these that makes me really wish Mars could just tell me what I need to know, seriously how hard would it have been to just say, "Hey, this grimm's gonna shoot you clear across Remnant."

It doesn't seem hard, but no, he tells me that if I start feeling like I need to sleep to just remember good things. What good things do even have to think of?

Whatever, the light is just beyond this tree. Maybe I can get some help from whoever is… behind… oh gods no.

Around the fire stand three people. They shouldn't be though. Not these people, not since that night.

"Coward." a giant bull of a man bellows. I avert my eyes from the gaping hole in his chest, it was revolting. He got it because of my fear...

"Child." chastises and old, old man. It was the last thing I thought I'd hear from him but when I thought about it he did have to sacrifice himself to save me… if only I could have helped!

"Traitor." cries the woman I considered a sister. She's not wrong; she helped Eton and I escape and how did I repay her? I ran screaming for my life!

But… all of this isn't real. They're dead, they should be dead! This isn't real, it can't be real. This has to be a dream.

"It's your fault." It's my fault.

No! This is a nightmare. I close my eyes shut, if there really are any gods please wake me up from this nightmare!

"Remember the..." a new voice enters the mix and with it comes an odd mix of irritation and determination.

I open my eyes, ready to yell at whoever was speaking. Or at least that was the plan until I find my surroundings have changed. What was once cold snow and dense forest walls is now cold stone and even denser metal walls.

This is all too confusing. Why is everything changing, why are the dead alive, why is this even happening. It feels too unreal to not be anything except a dream.

"Veeeeerdun!" Uhm, did I say dream? Because I think I meant to say nightmare.

"Oh Veeeeerdun!" No. No. No. No. No. No. Gods no, please no. Why is that scorpion tailed bastard here of all places?!

I can't book it down the metal halls fast enough. I can hear the sound of his weapon scraping against the walls as he draws nearer with each turn I take. Am I running in circles, am I running towards him? I can't tell, where the hell even am I? What is this place? I was just in a forest! I don't understand any of this, is this some sort of cosmic punishment for all of my failures?

This has to be a nightmare right? I'm sleeping right? I've had plenty of nightmares, that's right I'll just wake up at the last moment. I'll fall out of my bed as usual, hit my face, and start the day.

"Hi." is all I hear before my legs are sliced to hell.

I shriek out into the corridors, the echoes bounce off over and over and come back to my ears. Did I really sound like that? They sounded like a dying animal… should I be offended by that?

I run a hand over my legs. I can feel the deep, deep gashes that the man carved with his jagged blades run slick with my blood.

Wake up. Why am I not waking up yet! A nightmare, this a nightmare. C'mon, pain is supposed to wake you up! "Ooo, I missed a spot!" my shoulders are gouged, "That's a beautiful torso young prince!" metal scrapes against bone and it is all I can hear and it is all I will ever hear in my last moments.

My last moments?

I'm going to die? Please… I don't want to die...

"Your face is so precious, the fear you exude is so..." I hear him shudder. I almost want to puke; why does he sounds like he's getting off to my fear, "intoxicating."

This is it… this is where my journey ends. Maybe I should give in. Maybe this is what I deserve.

"Remember the go…"

"Gods damnit!" There it is again, that voice! Ugh, why in the gods can't it just finish the sentence? That's it, as the brothers as my witness I'm getting out of here and I'm going to throttle whoever keeps doing that!

I kick the horrible excuse of a disgusting waste of space off of me; sure I lost a few ounces of blood and my legs went numb after but anger seems to be a surprisingly amazing source of fuel.

Focus, keep running, keep running. It's all you're good for Verdun, so just do the one thing you're good at. Run away. Keep running away.

"Run all you wish, it only makes me happier when you do!" Another corner, another corridor. He's still behind me and I don't even have to hear him to know he is.

Another turn and another still is all it takes to lead me to my grave. Immediate dead end in more ways than one. His tail scrapes heavily on the gray material of the halls, his weapons now hidden after their purpose was fulfilled. His laugh, that damned demon laugh cuts my voice clean away with it's blood chilling echo. He attacks and I can do nothing except fall to my knees. A dead end for this hall and for me.

I close my eyes, there is no longer any reason to fight. So much for all that anger

"Remember the good..."

"ARRRGH." I roar in anger. The sound that follows reminds me of the sound of a blacksmith's hammer hitting his anvil. I'm going to feel the cold steel of the floor tomorrow and the burning sensation that only a headache will give someone. Right now though, all I can feel is a sticky, wet sensation on my head.

I hear the demon recoil as his stinger bangs against the wall, but his laugh stays, "Still some fight in this scared, little puppy eh? Good."

He throws himself at me again but I counter by throwing myself under him and somehow slipping past that terrifying tail of his.

Once I'm clear I make sure I stay that way by doing my patented trick: running away. All around me the walls start melting into darkness. The room starts to quake violently as tendrils of night try to wrap around me as that demon chases me.

An explosive roar splits my head but I can't help but do what I always do, these legs were built for running so they might as well be used to keep me alive a bit longer.

"Come on whelp!" there was that voice again! It sounds strangely familiar like I should know who it belongs to but my mind is drawing a blank. Hands tinged with a dark taint grasp at air below me, I can't focus on who the voice belongs to.

Keep running away Verdun, maybe this is really all a dream. I know you can outrun anything so keep running until you break this… whatever this hellscape was.

"You couldn't even stop when your own mother was dying." a dark figure phases through one of the walls. My first thought is that this is the other voice I'm hearing but this one sounds a bit younger. "You left her bleeding on a strange table, surrounded by strange people, harmed by a strange man."

"Remember the good things."

I throw myself at the shade, it tries to fight but it won't win because of one mistake. "Eton would never say those things!" forgetting all about that hellish man I laid punch after punch into this creature.

By all means I'll take it crushing my spirit, I'll run from that devil, but I'll be damned if this creature is going to use Eton to do any of that. "I didn't realize it then but thinking back, when all I could do was run, when all I could do was mope around… Eton was there. My bestest buddy." I snarl and throw in one more punch deep into its head, "So don't you dare try to use him against me!"

The shade screeches in pain and finally lands blows of its own. Pain immediately arcs across my body. Claws of void strike me again and again I fight back with my fists.

This is all a dream, and I mean that in the literal sense. It's why nothing so far has made sense, it's why I was shot clear across Remnant, why the others were alive, and how the world kept changing. That meant this pain isn't real, that anything this thing does to me isn't real.

Right now I'm running off of such a high of anger that I fear nothing and I know it's starting to peeve off Gunny when the cave... pit? Is this his stomach? Eh whatever, the point is the place starts rumbling and something starts speaking. I can't understand what it says, but I can feel it if that makes any sense. Gunny's peeved I am not tired anymore, he's angry that I'm winning.

"What's the matter Gunny? Sad you can't snack?" I shout through gritted teeth. His response is what I expected, more voices rise up. The pack on my back grows heavier as if to remind me it's still there. It takes a couple of tries and painful seconds before I can get the buckle unclasped but I manage somehow.

Gunny tries using my family again. Another dark outline of Eton appears before me, "It's your fault."

"I know it is. That's why I can't afford to run any longer." I answer back with more confidence than I've ever had in my entire life before closing my eyes and fiddling with the random assortment of items I pull from my bag.

"Child." once a hammer on my heart now becomes a hammer on the metal I hold.

"I can't help it, I haven't lived long enough yet." the truth rings loudly and causes Gunny to snap more than the bolts I place snap into place. I'll become a man, just you wait Japhyr.

"Traitor." a name I gave myself.

"And only to myself." I admit wholeheartedly, the only enemy I have other than this loose hammer mechanism is myself. Jessie Rye, you were like a big sister to me. I promise he'll pay for what he did.

"Coward." it's true, what can I say?

"Fear will become my strength." Mr. Bill you were always so strong and so brave, even if your stories were a little far fetched. One day I'll tell you how much lien was in the pool.

"You left her to bleed..." and it will always be my biggest regret.

"I thought I told you," all of my anger returns as I grasp on tightly to the handles and scratch my fingers on the triggers. I aim a barrel at the shade, "Eton would never say that."

A loud bang and a high-pitched screech.

"Come on Gunny, thought you wanted some puppy chow?" I laugh into the abyss surrounding me as the shades of my old family shriek in pain. The beds after this life better be good; they deserve to rest easy.

The air grows stale and I watch as the world around me impossibly shifts into a stark white room, medical equipment is strewn every which way. The only thing left untouched is a bed that rests in the center. It only has one resident and even though they're covered with the white sheet of death I know who it is.

"We could have done more." I can only slightly take pause as I watch some dark version of myself strolls in from the wall. I guess I'm still stuck in this dream.

"Huh, never thought about coming in through walls."

"We killed her." the shade ignores me and the amazingly made sass, choosing to instead try and demoralize me by slicing s a knife drawn from nowhere in particular down what's supposed to represent my dead mom. Wow, this grimm really has no tact at all.

"Though, I think that may be a bit too much of a dramatic entrance. But it's not as good as Solaire's." I laugh with crossed arms, I hadn't thought much about my family from Atlas but that chance encounter was something that always came back. I cut the laughter and glare at this shade, "But you should know that, right?"

The shade shudders for a moment, Gunny you're losing control my grimm dude, "We deserve the hate, we deserve my sorrow, we need to run."

There's a loud bang as I pull the trigger, the hook sinks into the wall behind Grimmy. He laughs, thinking I missed. "Why are you laughing?"

The air grows even more stale, can you tell what you did wrong Gunny? Grimmy, the shade that Gunny made look like me, still laughs, "We are useless, we can't even win against ourselves."

I scratch my finger on the trigger, don't press it yet. I flick my off hand and frown as the gears whir, soon enough I feel the full heft of the sickle in my hand. One squeeze and a melody reminiscent of the circus organ rings the polarity dust reacts to the polarity dust in the hook. What? It's a dream, of course I can dream up dust if I want to. There's a sharp and immediate pain as my shoulder pops out of its socket. I'll have to get used to the pull of it when I wake up.

Grimmy screams in fear and jumps away just in time to avoid the slice. I put my time as an acrobat to good use and manage to spin my body fast enough to land my feet on the wall. Seconds tick by as my instincts kick in. Two more flicks and a trigger squeeze and I'm sent back in the direction of Grimmy.

Again he dodges. Flick, flick, shoot, dodge, slice. Flick, flick, shoot, dodge, slice. This pattern continues over and over and over, blood is still draining from my wounds, both of my arms are dislocated, and I twisted one ankle. Grimmy has stopped laughing and has started screaming. Overall, this is probably the second weirdest nightmare I've ever had.

I don't relent, I start laughing, my laughter is broken but alive. I feel alive. I actually feel alive, there's thrill in this fight; there's thrill in this hunt. No matter how much pain I feel, no matter how much blood I lose I am still smiling brightly. I will win, I will kill you Grimmy, I will...

"I don't want to die!" I land on the wall, propped up only by my hook.

"What did you say?" I flick my wrist and level the grapple gun at Grimmy, my smile fades while doing so.

Grimmy is crying now, "I don't want to die. Please... don't kill me! You… you're a demon!"

I stare at my weapon, it looks like me. Not in the same way Grimmy looks like me. Almost a full year of training, almost a year fueled by self hate and a want for revenge; a want to kill and to tear from that man what was torn from me. That's what's loaded into these weapons. But that isn't them and it isn't me.

I turn my gaze from my gun to Grimmy. His whining, his want to live, his fear, his laugh, his sorrow, his misplaced responsibility... those are me. Or... they used to be. "Then what does that make you?"

The sun is gone and the stormy clouds rain bullets against my skin, the water below is green and smells of toxin. By all accounts this place is a wasteland, there's nothing to do here, there's no way of redeeming it, the world has been broken, the light has been snuffed. The only things born here are of hatred and sorrow. I trample across miles of dark, dark sand. The task of making this place vibrant seems impossible, the darkness is too rooted, the poison too far set. My throat is parched, and my hope is gone, but then I see it. I don't know whether it was fate or just a big cosmic joke, but the clouds part for a moment and I can see a ray of light shine down. I run towards it, even as your sickly chains try to prevent me from doing so. What is there, what have the gods left, did they leave anything or am I right about the cosmic joke thing? I make it to the fountain, the light feels so good, so refreshing. I bask in it, I haven't felt it since she stole you. The sand is course, I've come to know their grit well since the worlds turned to this so it comes as a surprise when I feel something different brush against my feet. In this small fountain of daylight I have witnessed a lily grow. The task of fixing this destruction is impossible. But... you did always say I was impossibly naive...

Hammers, a lot of 'em. Enough to build and break a home down in seconds. Hundreds, millions, and they're all apparently pounding against my head when I wake up. "Ughhhh," I moan, trying to move any part of my body but failing miserably. Wait... where am I? Think Verdun; blanket, lumpy mattress, wooden door, dresser, and a chair with a small part of the leg missing. Ok this is kind of pointless, I could have guessed I was back home.

Think back, how did I get here though?

Then what does that make you?

Oh yeah: I shot the shade and he dissipated like the others. After that I think Gunny got all gunny grouchy and spat me out. I really wish I could think of a better description of it but it's really all I got, there isn't much else to compare it to. Maybe the Faunus Cannonball thing we had back in the circus but I never really took part in that...

After that I think I remember Eton and Mars standing over me, wait yep. Eton definitely was. He had been worrying over all of my wounds. I still don't understand how I got hurt when all that kark was just a dream. But Mars had been worried too so he could probably explain, not that he would.

I must have blacked out after that because I don't remember walking here. That kind of feels like something I would given how even lying here is just pure pain. So what now, do I just lie here?

Minutes tick by and I'm already bored. Hmm, I spy with my little... wait am I really playing I spy with myself? Ok, nobody should ever be that bored. I'm getting out of this bed asap! Away with these covers! Begone blanket! Legs, forwards! I grit my teeth and whip my legs off the bed, phase one of operation: leave the nest complete. Phase two start: stand up and leave the nest two, electric boogaloo.

I would like to state that while yes, I immediately regretted standing up and yes, I think I may have pulled a muscle trying to push past the pain that I did, however, still keep going for a total of two steps before my body just gave up on me. Take that body! Mind over matter!

It's this small victory that made me feel ok knowing that I was falling just far enough to hit my head on my desk.

Thankfully I didn't; instead of falling onto the hard, probably sharp edge of my desk I instead fall roughly into the hold of a familiar face. Against what I want to happen, I release a strangled squeak of surprise, "Dad?"

At first all I can think is that my eyes are playing a trick on me, maybe I didn't really wake up. Dream Dad helps me back to my bed a strained, but warm, smile dances on his face, "You have to be careful Verdun, the Miasma's paralytic toxin leaves quite the mark."

"You're," I swallow nervously, choking back tears, "Am I dreaming?" I'm scared of what the answer will be, it's been how many years since those eyes actually looked at me. How long has it been since he's actually seen me?

He raises his good arm, reminding me Mom isn't the only thing he lost on that day. He ruffles my hair, his smile becoming less strained, "I suppose you would have known if gravity had its way."

"I suppose that's a no, huh?" I huff, my annoyance showing. But that isn't how I really feel, truth be told it's taking everything in me not to just cry from how happy I am.

Dad just laughs, normally I would probably be a bit irritated by that but right now I'm just glad he isn't just staring past me, "You're just like your mother."

"How so?" I ask. "Is it my fantastic hair? Maybe my smile?"

Dad laughs again. I'll never give him reason not to again, "No, no. Believe it or not you actually get your hair from my side of the family."

"Oh really?" I ask, "Do you mean those two wack jobs?"

Dad shifts a brow, "Wack jobs? Oh. Luna and Sol?" another laugh, another small bit of atmosphere made lighter, "I had forgotten you had met your cousins. Yes, yes, they are quite an odd pair." He takes off his coat and I've seen he's changed outfits. Now he's decked out in a simple white button shirt that kind of looked like those shirts the pirates in movies wore with a pair of dress pants, from which he took out a scroll, "Look for yourself."

On the scroll is a picture of what I can obviously tell is a younger Dad standing next to an ancient, like I'm talking prehistoric, looking elderly woman. I know the focus was supposed to be how young Dad and I look similar but the old woman interests me more, "Who's that?"

Dad looks at the photo, "Oh, that's my mother. Artica Yatsune." his smile goes from happy to melancholy, "She was so proud of me when we had you…" Artica Yatsune… it sounds so familiar, but I really can't place it. Dad shuts the scroll off, reeling me back in, "But that's not why I'm here now."

I know why he might be here, but it doesn't mean I want to hear him say it. "Dad, please…"

"You blame yourself," Dad, if Mars couldn't convince me then you don't stand much of a chance either, "I can see you can't be convinced, your face is as readable as hers was."

I try moving again, no use. "I've-"

"I don't give two tai-jitus arses if you've made up your mind," Dad shouts, scaring me half to death, "Your mother's death wasn't your fault."

I say nothing, my heart shattering as his tears start falling once more. "Look, I don't know why it happened, and I don't know what any of what I heard in that damned video means in the slightest," he wipes away his tears and collects himself, it was almost as if he was back, "But… I do know you blaming yourself, you pushing yourself to such an extreme," he motions to my bed, "is not something your mother would want!"

I don't know why and I don't know where, but a ball of rage just fills me, "How would you know? She's dead!"

"How can you not Verdun?" he yells back, his tears coming back in full force. "She left you a whole scroll full of her telling you how much it isn't your fault damnit." he reaches behind him and grasps at the top of my drawer before pulling back my mom's scroll, "Every single video dedicated to detailing her life, every single one of these entries that were made since she was old enough to think for herself, for you. All of them. Made so you could know that when death came for her you wouldn't blame yourself, that you could learn more of her… and out of all of those I only get one…"

I… I can't think of anything to say to that… what can I say?

"Your mother was a shining sun, Verdun… and like the one that hangs so high in the sky, losing her is devastating." he whispers it, but the pure and uncut painful truth in it feels like a roar. Dad turns back to face me, "Do you even know what you're doing?"

I shake my head, "I'm going to avenge mo-"

"No you aren't." Dad shakes his head angrily, "What you're doing is throwing your life away, what you're doing is trying to be someone who you can never be." Dad swipes through his scroll and shows me a picture of him with three other people, two of them I don't know but I do know when I see my own mother, "You're trying to be her."

"No I'm-"

"Yes you are!" Dad shouts again, where was all of this emotion coming from? Just the other day he was sitting in his chair wasting away, "You are acting just like your mother. I can see it, I knew her for over thirty years! I can see it, both of you are so stubborn, both of you keep moving forward and expect everyone to be a-okay with it, and both of you blame yourselves for so many things that you cannot, will not, ever have control over…"

Dad shakes his head, he steadies his breathing, and for a moment I can see the father I had before that night, "But the one thing that sets you apart from your mother… she knew this… she saw the pattern and she tried to change that."

Against the pain I sit myself up, "What do you mean?"

"Your mother grew up without the love of her own, Verdun. She had none of what you had. She became a huntress because she wanted to. She led our team because she wanted to. She married me because she wanted to, she gave you the life you had because she wanted to… and she died protecting us… because she had to…"

That's the part I hate, why did she have to die? "There is no reason she had to! Tell me one reason why!"

Dad laughs again, "There is no reason, none that would make either of us happy at the very least Verdun."

"So she just did because of no reason at all?" I shout, crying so heavily like I was a baby again.

"Yes." Dad answers plainly. I almost shout at him. I almost yell and argue against that, there has to be a reason, there is no way she just died because she had to. But a single, pale arm wraps around me, tying my tongue, "I know, it's only natural to want there to be a reason."

He wipes his eyes, clearing the sadness from. his throat, "Somebody has to be to blame, even if we blame her murderer it leaves out that she didn't have to throw away her life against him. It hurts, knowing that if we blame him it downplays her sacrifice and that if we blame her we only damn her."

I curl my fingers into a fist, clenching so tightly that my hands begin to seize up, "What can I do?"

Dad's arm is still hugging me close as he gives me the last answer I want, but the only one I need, "I don't know my son… I don't know." he sighs, "But… what is it that you truly want to do?"

I thought about it, but I don't know. I want to kill that damned bastard who took my mother away from me, who destroyed my family, my friends, who cast my dad into such a depression.

Even for my grandfather I want to kill him, to break him, to take that sickly, disgusting tail and shove it so deep into his own heart that he leaks poison even as he is buried.

But it won't change anything. Mom will still be dead and Cirque Du Faunus will still be gone…

"I… I don't know." I finally reply. "But I can't just sit around and mope. I want to do… no I need to do something Dad."

Dad lets go of me and swiftly walks towards the door. At first I think I've only made him angrier or that I've hurt him by still being so stubborn.

But as he dons his mask and opens the door he leaves me with one final question that clears my head of these feelings, "I will not tell you what you must do; not I nor anyone else can or will know. But whatever it is that you do make sure to ask yourself if it's something you want to do, or something you need to do."

And with that the door closes, "Something I want or something I need huh?" well right now my eyes want to close, so I guess I need to sleep…

Sleep I do… and for the first time in almost a year my dreams are not poisoned by nightmares.